Happy Holidays: Father's Day Edition
by nekkidboothinc
Summary: Not wanting to be upstaged, Brennan tries to create some holiday magic of her own for Booth. Eleventh in the Happy Holidays series.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Of course we didn't forget. Weirdos:)**

**We understand that you have prob. been saddened by the lack of NBI goodness for the past month, so we decided to exteeeeend this one a bit. There will be another chap. And maybe...if you ask REALLY nicely...some smut:)**

**Loves!**

**--**

Dr. Temperance Brennan had never gone grocery shopping with a 7-year-old before, so she had not entirely known what to expect. Now, pushing her cart down Aisle 3 with Parker Booth skipping several yards ahead of her, she was beginning to think that perhaps having a child along for the ride was not the arrangement most conducive to meeting her goals for this trip.

"What's that?" she questioned as the little boy raced back and slam-dunked a box into the cart.

"Fruit roll-ups," he informed her. "Strawberry." He grinned at her one last time before racing off again. "You told me to pick a fruit!"

"Don't go too far, Park," she called after him, frowning slightly at the contents of her cart. She had told Parker to pick from the store whatever he thought his Dad would like. Apparently, his Dad didn't like many things that didn't have some sort of cream filling or candy-shell coating. This would be an interesting Father's Day.

Feeling a vibration in her tote bag, she paused and dropped it in the child-seat of the cart, fishing for the phone. "Hey, Ange."

"Hey Sweetie. Gotta question for you. How do you feel about Queen Ann versus Mandarin necklines? I want something a little special."

"I would love to help you out. If I had one clue what you were talking about. Parker, I'm pretty sure we don't need another box of Twinkies, okay? Pick something else."

There was a pause at the other end of the phone. "Bren, are you or are you not getting married sometime this year to Special Agent Love Machine?"

She sighed. "I'd prefer if you didn't refer to Booth as Special Agent Love Machine. It's just...weird, now that I'm engaged to be married to him. And am shopping with his kid."

Angela laughed on the other end of the phone. "But you always LIKED when I objectified him before! So you really don't know what I'm talking about, with the necklines?"

"I really don't."

"I hate to say it, babe, but you've gotta figure all this wedding stuff out sooner or later. I know it's not something you had been planning on, but it's coming whether you are ready or not. And besides, I need someone to dress shop with."

Brennan smirked. "So the truth comes out. She just wants a shopping partner."

"I'd drag you shopping whether you were getting married or not."

She began to smile at her friend's cheekiness, then realized that she couldn't get a visual on Parker anymore. "I'll call you back later, Ange. I have to go." Flipping shut her phone and pushing the cart briskly at the same time, she frantically looked about. "Parker? Parker!"

Turning the corner she looked right and left, still unable to see the little boy. Jesus. Just when she was starting to feel better about this step-mother thing, she goes and loses the kid. He had probably climbed into the freezer section and was slowly becoming hypothermic while she was busy talking about love machines and wedding dress necklines.

"BOO!" A tiny pair of arms wrapped around her hips, and she nearly jumped into the ceiling.

_"Parker. _Don't go where I can't see you again, okay? I was worried."

"I was right _behind _you, Bones," he giggled. "Here." He tossed a pack of chocolate bars into the cart. "Daddy _loves _these."

She had a sneaking suspicion that Parker loved them more. "Alright, kiddo. Think that's about enough to give your Dad the Father's Day of his dreams. Let's go check out."

As they waited in line at the checkout, her doing her best to keep her active future stepson from reeling into the impulse racks on either side of them, one of the magazines caught her eye. _Modern Bride. _That sounded more like it...she certainly would rather be a _modern _bride than one of the ones obsessing about china patterns. After a second's hesitation, she swiped the magazine and added it to the pile of over-processed junk in the cart.

Parker noticed and giggled. "Bones and Daddy, sittin' in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes..."

"Keep going and I'm going to add a vegetable to this cart," she threatened.

His mouth snapped shut.

She smiled. Maybe she was better at this step-parenting thing than she thought.

--

Seeley Booth heard the slamming of the car door and the scampering of his son's small feet before he saw the boy or the beautiful forensic anthropologist right behind him. Oh, good, they had made it home from the supermarket in one piece. He hadn't been concerned, but Bones still seemed to see something a little trepidatious about one-on-one time with the terribly frightening Parker Booth. "Hey you two, how was the store?" Bones handed him two of the bags she carried and fell in behind him with the other two.

"It was good," she replied, setting the bags on the counter, trying not to trip over the little boy running circles around the island. "But I may have made the mistake of telling Parker to get whatever he thought you'd like," she rolled her eyes.

Booth dug into the first grocery bag and pulled out a box of strawberry fruit roll-ups and a large bag of peanut butter cups. Not what he was expecting, but delicious nonetheless. "So far he's right," he teased, leaning across the counter to give her a kiss, Parker flying solidly into his legs. He scooped the little boy up and set him on the counter, ruffling his blonde curls. "Good job, pal." He looked up to meet Bones's eyes and winked. He dug into the other bag and pulled out a magazine. How thoughtful. Before looking at the cover he started speaking. "Did you get me the new Men's Health, kiddo?"

"Try again," Bones said dryly. He looked down at the cover and saw a beautiful blonde woman holding a bouquet of orchids looking back up at him, the words "Modern Bride" stretched out behind her in bright pink.

"What made you think I'd like this?" he teased Parker, lunging for his ribs in a tickle fight. The little boy giggled infectiously and gasped for air when he'd had too much of his daddy's teasing.

"Bones got it!" he gasped.

"Booooooooooones got it? Who would want to marry herrrrrrrr?" Seeley teased. "Girls are sooooo disgusting, right Parks?"

Parker giggled some more. "Right, Dad."

Bones took the opportunity to jump in to their female-bashing. "Hey! YOU TWO _happen _to love me. And you better start acting like it if you want to see another pan of mac and cheese _ever_ again," she taunted.

Booth and Parker looked at each other with matching comically horrified expressions. "Nooooooo," Parker pled, crawling across the counter to lunge into her arms. "We were just _teasing_!" he swore. She caught him easily and swung him to the floor, giving him a playful smack to his backside. He squeaked and dodged away from her.

"Would you please set the table, bud?" she asked, pulling open the fridge door to start putting away the loot from their junk food extravaganza.

"Sure," he answered amiably, moving toward the dishwasher to dig clean plates and silverware out.

Booth waited until he was out of earshot before speaking in low tones. "Modern Bride, huh?" he teased. He stepped around the counter to begin handing her things to put in the fridge, a little distracted by her soft curves as she crouched before him. If she turned around she'd be right in line to... _Father's Day, Seeley. Your child is here. Father. Not fellatio. Or another really nice word that starts with f. Fa.Ther._

Bones shrugged, blissfully unaware of his internal battle. "I figured it would be more practical than most of the other ones. I'd rather be a modern bride than a traditional bride."

"Mhm," he agreed, continuing to dig through grocery sacks. "And did you _see_ one called 'Traditional Bride'?"

She stopped her refrigerator arrangement and looked over her shoulder at him. "Noooo, I guess I just... what are you saying?" she regarded him suspiciously.

"Nothing, honey, I just think you're going to be a little surprised how _traditional_ Modern Bride tends to be."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Booth. I'll look through it in a little bit." She put a can of whipped cream in the door and a flat of strawberries on the top shelf of the fridge and stood, shutting the door.

"How come you didn't put those in the drawer?" Booth questioned, sliding his arms around her waist and trapping her between his body and the butcher-block counter top. She reached up and snaked her arms around his neck and whispered delicately in his ear.

"Because. Those were _my_ pick. And I have plans for them and the whipped cream later."

Booth shivered at her words and lowered his head for a kiss. "I _do_ love strawberry shortcake."

She tipped her head back, her sable ponytail falling down her back as she gave him a naughty grin. "You be the cake."

--

She and Booth taught each other new things every day. Brennan knew that he learned as much from her as she did from him...and not just about the grooming rituals of Amazonian tribes, or the best techniques to identify microscopic nicks on bone. However, when it came to this holiday business, it had occurred to her that more than often, it was him who made an effort to show her how special they could be. When a glance at her calendar showed her that Father's Day was fast approaching, she saw it as an opportunity for her do something for _him. _And Temperance Brennan did _everything _well, so she wanted to make sure her first orchestration of a holiday experience was no exception.

Unfortunately, they never taught her how to do the following in graduate school: 1. Shop with a 7-year-old. 2. Cook on a barbeque grill. 3. Host a barbeque party. But her lack of experience be damned, she was going to do this. Because every time she saw them, Booth's fathering skills impressed her more, and he deserved to have something done for him on this day. Unbeknownst to Parker, she had returned to the grocery store later in the day to purchase some types of meat and vegetable products (something OTHER than Slim Jims and potato chips), so she felt at least prepared with the necessities. Bad news was, she was far out of practice at cooking any type of meat. And had even less practice with lighting charcoal on fire. So the next day's adventure would be a new one for her.

This Saturday evening, she was at her own apartment taking a rare day for herself. She had written most of the morning and afternoon, and by early evening had decided maybe some preparation for this impromptu picnic was in order. So she alternated between slicing fruit for the fruit salad, and perusing the pages of her new magazine, which sat open on her kitchen counter.

And becoming increasingly more horrified.

Her phone rang, and after wiping off her fruit-juiced hands on a dishtowel, she answered.

"Are you _sure _you don't want to come over tonight?" Booth's wheedling voice asked her.

"Thought you wanted some alone-time with Parker tonight," she responded, smiling a grin that turned to a frown as she flipped through another page of the magazine.

"We went to the Capitals game this morning. Came back and practiced soccer in the backyard. We went to the library to pick up books for his report, and I have spent the rest of the day watching TV with him and watching him consume all the peanut butter cups that were _supposedly _meant for me. I think the kid is all Daddy'd out. He's passed out on the couch."

She smirked. "So what, now you want me there to be your entertainment?"

"I entertain back," he promised. "C'mon, Bones. You know I don't like sleeping without you."

"Well, babe, you're going to have to go solo tonight," she said distractedly. "I have some things to do here…what in the _hell _would I need 3 sets of china for?"

She heard mirth in his voice. "You're reading that magazine, aren't you?"

"I'm doing a couple things at once."

"I see."

"Holy shit. This dress must weigh _500 pounds." _

Now, he was chuckling. "You're a strong woman. You could carry it around."

"I also am not a self-hating masochist," she murmured, eyeing the stilettos the bride wore with said 500 pound dress, reminding her of her Halloween costume. She had hardly been able to walk on them when she was barely dressed, let alone carting around a gown the size of Texas. "Booth, are you sure you don't want to just run down to the courthouse? It would be so easy…and quick," she said, longingly, seeing the timeline listed on page 157 which suggested she book her photographer at least a year and a half in advance, just to be safe.

"You know I'll do this however you want it, baby. But you also know how much it would mean to our family and friends to be there, too."

She sighed.

"Lucky for you, they don't give a damn how heavy your dress is or how many sets of china you have."

This was true. She could be grateful for that. "Booth?"

"Yes?"

"Can I throw this thing away?"

"Good riddance to it."

She smiled. She loved him so damn much. "You and Parker are going to meet me in the park at 11 tomorrow still, right?" She had been pretty impressed that Parker had managed to keep her little secret for this long, but wasn't completely certain that he wouldn't bust at any minute, spilling the fact that their "little picnic" was going to be a party in Booth's honor, complete with family and friends.

"A picnic with my two favorite people? Wouldn't miss it."

"Great. I'll see you then, 'kay?"

"I don't know about you. But I'll be seeing you in my dreams _long _before tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes. "I love you, weirdo."

After hanging up, she surveyed her equipment. A barbeque for 10…she wasn't sure how much charcoal it took to cook this much meat, so she bought 5 large bags of it. She had also bought 3 containers of lighter fluid to get the fire burning strong and high. None of their friends were going to be served raw meat, she'd make sure of it.

Feeling more under control now, she returned to her fruit, which she had _much _more experience with than the bloody packages that were currently thawing in her fridge. But she was confident that she could pull this off. How hard could it be to throw a little party?

--

"Dad! Let's GO!" With Parker tugging at his hand, Booth struggled to juggle a basketball and a soccer ball, the only things Bones had asked him to bring to their little family gathering, stating she had everything else 'totally under control.' He wondered why she'd sounded so concerned when she'd said it… oh well. He was excited to be spending Father's Day with the kid who he'd been lucky to call his son for seven years, and the woman he was excited to call his wife sometime before the end of the year.

"Okay, bud, let's hit the road." The Booth boys headed out to Seeley's SUV and Parker quickly scrambled into the back and buckled himself in. Booth glanced in the rear-view mirror to make sure Parker was secured and then started driving the short distance to the park they frequented.

"Dad, put in 'Uptown Girl!' Bones had recently introduced Parker to the genius of Billy Joel and the kid had fallen in love with the piano man's hit about a boy from the wrong side of the tracks falling in love with a classy sophisticate. Seeley shuffled the discs in the changer and fast forwarded until the song blared from the speakers. He watched his little man bob his head to the tune until it got to the part he knew all the words to. His little voice chimed from the back seat, "and when she waaakes up and maaaaaaaakes up her mi-yi-yind, she'll see that I'm not so tough, just because, I'm in love with an uptown girl," Seeley had to grin at the memory of the previous Friday night, Parker on a minor sugar high bouncing/dancing around the living room with Bones, both of them belting out the words to the tune, claiming it as "their" song. He smiled, listening to Parker sing for the remaining few blocks until they got to the park.

He located an open spot next to the new family-friendly Lexus hybrid SUV they'd found for Brennan at the beginning of the summer. Booth had felt his throat closing up when the sales guy had quoted them the price, but her book advance had easily paid the tab. He looked around at the other cars parked nearby, something vaguely familiar about a few of them, but he disregarded the thought, figuring they were just cars he'd seen before on the Beltway. He got out of the Tahoe and took Parker's hand, both of them carrying a ball under their arm. As he got closer to the picnic area, Booth noticed a small crowd gathered around one of the barbeque pits and felt his son tugging more insistently on his hand. "What's going on, Park?"

"I can't telllllllll you, it's a surpriiiiiiise," Parker looked like he was about to burst. Right before he did, the small crowd erupted.

"SURPRISE!" Booth grinned at the noisy greeting from what appeared to be just under a dozen of his closest friends. Angela and Jack were there, Zack, Cam, Sam and Julia Cullen, and Rebecca and Brent.

"What's all this?" he asked, dropping a kiss on Bones's cheek. She shrugged slightly and smiled.

"Happy Father's Day."

The woman never ceased to amaze him. She'd planned an entire Father's Day barbeque right under his nose _and_ managed to keep his seven-year-old quiet about it? That damn kid couldn't keep his trap shut for _anything_!

"Are you s'prised, Daddy?" said seven-year-old piped up from his position next to his co-conspirator, her arm slung gently – _motherly, _Booth couldn't help but notice – around his thin shoulders.

"Very surprised! I can't believe you kept that secret, Parks!"

"I didn't tell Bones 'bout Valentine's Day, so she said I couldn't tell you 'bout this!"

Booth smiled and ruffled the kid's hair. "Good job, pal." He directed his next question to Bones. "Are we having barbequed fruit rollups and flame-broiled oreos?"

"Better!" she said brightly. "Veggie burgers and tofurkey dogs!"

Booth looked at her with what he hoped to convey as complete and total horror. Apparently it worked.

"Only kidding," she grinned. "You want a hot dog or hamburger?" she asked.

"One of each," Booth requested, leaning in to kiss her again. "You, Temperance Brennan, are about the most wonderful woman I think I've ever met," he whispered.

"Oooh. That's gonna get you an extra hot dog, mister," she smiled and kissed him quickly, giving him a playful shove in the direction of the playground equipment Parker was already dragging him toward. "Now go play."

Booth hoisted the basketball he carried onto the tips of his fingers and shouted at the group over his shoulder, "whoever wants to take me and my kid on in a game of HORSE, bring it on!"

--

Everything was going perfectly so far. All of her invited guests had gotten to the park with Booth none the wiser, and Booth had seemed genuinely touched and surprised by her gesture, which made every bit of her planning and scheming worth the time she had put into it. Angela lingered by her side as she spread out the lot of raw meat that she was about to take on, frowning at it with distaste.

"I'm really proud of you, Sweetie," Angela told her, squeezing her arm gently.

Brennan looked up at her in surprise. "I know. This took more work than I had anticipated."

"Not just the work you put into it. The fact that you thought to do it for Booth. That's love, right there, baby."

A blush crept into her face. She knew her friends had seen her transformation this year as a good thing. A much-needed thing. Still, it sometimes embarrassed her when her soft spot was showing. "I do love him," she admitted. "And…he's so good with Parker. You should just watch them sometime, Ange. Sometimes, I'm almost jealous of him. How naturally it comes."

Her friend's eyes twinkled. "Some people just got the gift. And your man? He's _gifted." _She looked across the park to watch her own fiancé laughing and lifting Parker to make an easy basket, his teammates shouting at him in mock horror. "We should all be so lucky." Glancing back at Brennan, who had picked up a bag of charcoal from the grass and was lugging it toward the grill, she frowned. "You need some help?"

"No help," Brennan insisted. "I want to do this on my own."

"You sure? I've got some skills, you know. From a _lot _of tailgating experience."

"I've got it under control, Angela," she insisted, dumping the bag onto the grill until the briquettes piled almost all the way up to the rack. "Please. Go have fun with everybody. I want to show that I can do this."

The artist's eyes had widened as she shook the bag onto the grill. "Wow. You planning on cooking all night and into tomorrow?"

Exasperated, she sighed. "_Please."_

"Okay." Angela threw up her hands. "Let me know if you need anything. Like a call to the fire department."

"Right," she said distractedly, waving her friend off.

So. She wanted to make sure the briquettes were burning hot and evenly. That's where the lighter fluid came in. Squirting a liberal coating across the black surface, she ensured that each brick would heat to its maximum potential fairly quickly, so that she did not have to wait very long until the food was ready to cook. It was already making her slightly nauseous to see the raw hamburger patties lined across the table. It really _had _been a long time since she had looked at, handled, or smelled uncooked red meat. Just putting her hands in it last night to form the patties made her shudder a little bit.

Alright. Striking a match, she tossed it over the rack and into the waiting charcoal. Instantly and with a 'whoosh,' orange flames shot up out of the grill as high as her head. Biting back a yelp as the heat coming off smacked her in the face, she hopped backwards. Faintly, she could hear Parker's voice drifting from the playground. 'Daddy. Look at that! Are we gonna roast marshmallows?' The little brat. There were a few vaguely concerned voices, and Angela's mumbling in response, apparently warning them from going over to try to help.

She frowned in irritation. Did they want their food cooked, or not? Waiting until the flames died down until they were at least chest-height, she poked at the patties she had pulled out, glad for the large Portobello mushroom that she had brought to grill and eat herself. Lifting one piece of meat with a set of tongs, she didn't notice the pink liquid drain from the hunk of burger and down the metal handle until it reached her fingers.

"Ew! Ew, ew, ew." She dealt with dead things every day. But this…this remnant of cow that her friends and colleagues were going to _put in their mouths…_was somehow a thousand times more nauseating than anything in her lab. Dropping the patty back to the foil she had spread, she frantically reached for the paper towels and the large container of anti-bacterial liquid, squeezing a glob on her hands and rubbing for a good few minutes. Okay. Decontaminated.

Again reaching for the tongs, this time making _very _sure to hold them straight out so there would be no drippage, she carefully lifted the patty and carried it over the grill, dropping it on the rack and immediately hearing the sizzle. Good. One down. Going back, she did the same with the second, and the third. By the time she put on the fourth, she could hear the spitting sound from where the grease was dripping onto the briquettes, and the resulting flares between the grates. She needed to hurry; the first ones she put on would need to be flipped by the time she put on the last, at this rate. Turning back to the picnic table to gather the rest, her ears pricked as she heard another "whooshing" sound. That couldn't be good.

When she turned, she saw her patties not just cooking, but _flaming._ The height of the fire and the greasiness of the burgers had apparently not made a good combination. Because she had placed them so close together, the first torched burger quickly spread its heat to the next, and the next, and now every single one of her carefully-formed patties had turned into spitting, flaming blowtorches.

Trying not to panic, she looked left and right, trying to find something to smother the flames, and there was nothing. Grabbing the turner, she began smacking at the increasingly-blackened burgers, succeeding only in sending showers of sparks up and floating back across the grill. The heat was intense. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

"_Angela!" _she screamed, standing as close to the grill as it was safe to get, beating at the flames with her utensils.

The seconds it took her friend to get to her side felt like hours, but eventually she felt a hand tug at her arm, pulling her away. "Sweetie. Stand back."

Gratefully, she did as she was told. She watched dumbly as Ange ripped off two long pieces of tinfoil, spread one on the dirt beside the grill, and with the turner she had snatched from Brennan's hands, expertly flipped the flaming patties onto them and covered them with the other piece, effectively smothering the blaze. The acrid smell of burnt meat filled the air. Again tearing off the foil pieces, her friend used the tongs to lay them out across the grates of the grill, restricting the airflow to the coals and diminishing the flames. Calmly, she maneuvered her way to the remaining uncooked patties, picked them up carefully with the tongs, and laid them across the foil. Through this process, she had drawn a small, appreciative crowd of onlookers.

"Okay. Who wants a burger?" she asked, counting. "How do you want that done? Medium-rare for you, Julia? Well-done, Brent? Gotcha. Two medium-rares, three mediums, four wells." All the meat now on the grill, she wiped off her hands on a paper towel and began gathering the seasonings that Brennan had laid out.

"Thanks, Ange," she told her friend guiltily, sidling up to her and toeing away the hockey pucks that were cooling on the ground. "I'm sorry. I really thought I could…I really wanted to do this."

The artist smiled at her. "Babe, you did all the organizing. You put everything together, and you put every ounce of love you had into it. It's okay to relax a little now. It's okay to ask for help. I'm happy to do this."

Smiling gratefully, she squeezed her friend's hand, before wandering over to a mirthful-looking Booth.

"Shut up," she told him petulantly.

"I didn't say anything!"

"It's good you didn't. Or I'd make you eat one of those." She pointed to the now-smoking pieces of blackened meat on the ground.

Grinning, he reached for her, pulling her into a hug.

"Sorry. I don't know what made me think I'd be good at this," she murmured, burying her flushed face into his shoulder.

"You know what? The fact that you aren't? Sort of makes me love you more."

"That doesn't make any sense," she insisted. But even as she said it, warmth crept up inside of her. The feeling of being loved not in spite of her imperfections, but _because _of them.

"I'm still going to make this the best Father's Day you have ever had. Someway," she promised.

He cupped her face and kissed her warmly. "You already have."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yeeees, we know. Late, late. Shame, shame. Does it make a difference if we tell you that our computers were broken? At one point, at the SAME TIME? It was like Apocalypse for NekkidBooth technology. It's a true story, folks. We wouldn't make this one up. Things seem to be pretty much in working order now, though, and we seem to recall promising you some smut. We here at NBI try to keep our promises. Loves:)**

--

"Parker all tucked in?" Bones smiled softly as Booth re-entered the living room a few hours after the barbeque had concluded.

"Snug as a bug in a rug," he answered.

"I've gotten used to the… sayings. But that one still boggles my mind," Bones wrinkled up her nose, probably contemplating how a bug could possibly be snug in a rug. Booth laughed and dropped down next to her on the couch, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm not sure I get that one either, babe," he kissed her forehead gently. "Hey, I think there's still some strawberry shortcake in the kitchen from the other night. You want some?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Bones blinked, her brow suddenly furrowed. She shook her head. She looked...upset? Annoyed?

"Uh, or, uh we could have ice cream?" Booth tried. Where in the hell had this come from?

"It's not that," she sighed. "I just really thought...I thought I could make today perfect for you. And as it turns out...I'm not perfect." This fact seemed to truly bother her.

Booth bit back a laugh. Even when she was the most brilliant, empirical, head-not-heart, genius scientist woman in the world, sometimes Bones still had those little-girl insecurities that, despite her loathing of them, endeared him to her.. A thought he knew if he spoke aloud, she'd castrate him. "Bones. It was a great day. Really. I mean I got smoked at Horse by my own son when we switched up the teams, but other than that…"

Bones snorted, just a hint of a pout left on her lips. "That was pretty pathetic."

"He cheated," Booth muttered petulantly.

"Sore loser," she nudged him with her shoulder. He gaped at her, mouth opening and closing. "You're going to catch flies," she grinned, shaking off her momentary pouting.

"You really are getting used to the sayings, aren't you? I knew that'd come back to get me someday."

She smiled, standing up from the couch, pulling him to his feet as well. "C'mon, father-of-the-year. Let's go to bed."

--

Brennan pulled the elastic band from her ponytail, shaking her hair free. As she began peeling off her tee-shirt, she wrinkled her nose. "My clothes smell like burnt things." It might not have been so bad if "burnt things" didn't bring back so many traumatizing memories. She really hated not being good at something. Even more than that, she hated not being good at something in a public setting, her inadequacy on display for everybody to see.

Booth was sitting on the side of the bed untying the laces of his sneakers. "That's how you know you had a good day of barbecuing. If you don't smell like charbroil, you weren't doing something right."

"I think it's already been established that I didn't do something right," she replied dryly, tossing the shirt aside into the hamper. "I looked like an idiot out there."

Pulling off his shoes, Booth eased back on the bed, laying and propping his head on his palms. "Can I tell you a secret?" he whispered.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"I love watching you do what you are good at. Because it's amazing. But sometimes, I think I like it even more, watching you try something new. Because it always surprises me a little."

Her lips pursed. "Are you saying you get a kick out of it when I'm bad at something?"

"No. I like surprises. I find them kind of sexy." He gave her the grin that never failed to make her heart pound a little harder. "I see." She tilted her head, smiling a little at his flirtatiousness. He motioned for her to join him on the bed, and she shook her head coyly.

"Whaaaat?" he exclaimed. "I thought this was _my _day. And I can't even get my fiancée to come to bed with me?"

She tossed her hair and switched her hip a bit, taking pleasure in his widening eyes. Here, she was back in her domain. Driving him crazy.

"We go to bed all the time, Booth," she reminded him, hand creeping up her bare back to reach the clasp of her bra.

"Are you complaining about that?" She could practically see the mantra in his eyes. _Take it off take it off take it off... _He could be _such _a man, she thought, smiling.

"No." With a flick, the clasp was open, but she held the garment in place over her breasts with one hand. "But I thought you wanted...something new." Backing up, she was finally stopped by the wall right beside the mahogany dresser. Her bare skin responded quickly to the coolness of the paint, tiny bumps rising across the span of her back and shoulders, her nipples hardening noticeably against the bra that she clung to.

She saw him swallow. "You gonna give me something new?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"If you come and get it."

He was up and off the bed in a flash, like she knew he would be, yanking her bra from her roughly and pinning her up against the wall with his mouth and his chest. Her knee rose instinctively, hooking around the back of his thigh and pulling him closer to her while she kissed him back enthusiastically. Just like that, her confidence was back. So maybe barbecuing was not her forte. But she _could _heat things up in another way that she knew he enjoyed even more.

She felt herself being peeled off the wall and reeled backwards again. She nearly resisted; she was just enjoying feeling in control again. Then, her back was against the opposite wall again, his mouth at her throat. "Wha-..." she gasped.

"The wall furthest from my son's room, if you don't mind," he breathed, before he was on his knees before her tugging at her shorts.

It briefly occurred to her, once again today, that Seeley Booth was _such _a good father. And then the thought dissolved into something decidedly less paternal as his questing fingers found their way into her panties.

--

They'd pretty much mastered the art of quiet when they had Parker, but Seeley didn't want to risk only having the thin plaster between his son's bedroom and the spot where he made love to the boy's future step-mother. Park usually slept pretty soundly, but no reason to risk scarring the kid for life.

"Good call," Bones sighed as he tugged her satin shorts and lace panties down to the floor.

"Mmm, thanks," Booth replied as he blew gently over her sex. He glanced up just in time to see her eyes roll back slightly, her head dropping against the wall just as he'd figured it might.

"I thought I was supposed to be showing _you_ something new," she breathed.

"You'll get your turn, Bones. Patience, love. Patience." He blew a quick puff of air against her one more time before gently pressing a kiss over her clit. She sighed deeply and what he saw when he glanced up was nearly his undoing: her eyes closed, lower lip snug between her teeth, hands squeezing her own breasts drawing out the points of her blushed nipples. The vibration when he moaned against her clit seemed to only encourage her, which in turn urged him on, flickering his tongue back and forth against her clit, trying to draw out every single one of those sexy responses that made him feel like the fucking king of the castle every single time. Her hips thrust back and forth rhythmically and he tried to match his pace with hers.

"Booth," she sighed. "So close. Right..." he sucked her clit into his mouth, relishing in the whimper that left her lips and loving the flavor of her when she was so hot for him, so close to her precipice that she was almost incoherent. He'd bring her closer. He took one of the hands that had been gripping her ass and let it trail up her body, taking over for her at flicking the tip of one swollen nipple, while the fingers of his other hand eased to the spot underneath his busy tongue, pressing inside of her and making her jerk. Her soft mewls took on a higher pitch.

_Yes. _If hey weren't so concerned with drawing out her pleasure, he would have grinned at the moment of her climax, so proud was he of being the one to bring her to that place. Trying to put his own ego aside, he put every ounce of concentration into her pleasure, thrusting his tongue against her most sensitive areas until he felt her orgasm make her quake. He sighed with satisfaction. _Now _he had completed the perfect day. Almost.

"You want to take back that crack about how pathetic I was today?" he asked her, mouth twitching in a grin, as he gently kissed his way back up her body, ending at her full lips.

She smiled a breathless smile against his lips. "If I don't, does that mean you'll keep trying as hard as you just did to make up for it?"

That was his fiancée. She was a giving, creative lover, but she'd take pleasure from him where she could get it. And he never minded.

"I'll make up for it any way you'll let me," he swore, wiping the smile off her face with his seriousness and the urgency with which he hoisted her right leg up by the knee and pinned her to the wall with his hips, bringing a breathless "oh" to her lips. Not for the first time, he appreciated her height, bringing her toe-to-toe and eye-to-eye with him and making it so very easy for them to match up in this way.

Not one to let surprised stun her for long, one of her hands was wiggling between them, searching for the zipper of his pants, her fingers fumbling against him almost enough to drive him into a frenzy. Maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to provoke her. Somehow, that doubt didn't keep him from helping her, yanking at his belt to pull it from the loops and grinding against her while she softly moaned.

Heaven forbid he resist Temperance Brennan, when she was trying to prove she was good at something.

--

She wasn't good at barbecquing, or shopping with a little boy. But she _was_ good at driving Seeley Booth crazy. In lots of ways, but in this particular one, she was fairly certain that if there were a medal available for such a thing, she'd win it. Sometimes she liked it when he held back, took his time in pleasing her, but right at this moment? She was interested in just how fast she could get him to use this wall for something other than hanging pictures on. All it took this time was a come-hither look and arch of her hips, and he answered her unspoken question with a growl and a thrust at her waiting entrance. Her eyes widened at the welcome intrusion into her body, and she gasped, head falling forward onto his shoulder.

"Good?" he grunted, pressing into her in barely controlled movements while she clung to him, her fingers finding their way up under his shirt and scratching down his back.

"So. Fucking. Good." she told him in time with his strokes, between gritted teeth. Raising and lowering on her left foot, she maintained just enough of her own leverage to rub herself against him. She felt the tension start building in her belly again, and she picked up her pace, whimpering into his lips now while the fullness of him inside her, and the friction against him brought her higher.

And then she heard the sound that no woman about to have an orgasm should ever hear.

There was a knock on the door. The thankfully _locked _door. "Daddy? Bones? I need a drink."

To Booth's credit, he didn't stop thrusting for more than a second. "Can't you grab it yourself, buddy?" he choked out, burying his head into Brennan's hair.

"I want juuuuuiiice," said the plaintive voice behind the door. "You said if I needed a glass from the cupboard I should ask yoooouuu because I dropped it the last time."

Booth was having trouble now, out of breath, gasping into her ear. She was not in much better shape, but she tried to help him. "Be out in...a minute Park." She had lost her near-climax for a second, but Booth was moving more frantically than ever now. She bit back a squeal.

"Okay. Should I wait here?"

"NO!" the both shouted out in unison.

"Gotothekitchenandwe'llberightthere!" Booth forced out.

Then, the sweetest sounds known to man..."'Kay," followed by the patter of feet down the hallway. It gave her the permission she needed to let go. With a muffled cry, her body shook, held up against the wall by his own as her leg became weak. A few more pumps and he was panting while he stiffened, filling her. Leaning against her, he rested for a moment, both of them breathing hard.

"Love you," she whispered, her knee falling limply from his hip to the floor, searching for their strength again.

"Welcome to the wonderful world of parenting, Bones," he whispered back, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

"It's your world," she told him, honestly. "I'm happy to be in it."

He grinned at her, gratefully, and pushed back off the wall. As she searched for her discarded shorts and top, she heard it again..."DADDY. BONES. I. AM. SOOOOOO THIRSTY."

She had to shake her head ruefully. She couldn't help but feel that no matter what they tried that was new and exciting, it was going to be the old standards that made their lives special. "Come on. I won't be able to throw you a party next year if your child thirsts to death. That's just not good parenting."

Her fiance raised his eyebrows at her. "_You _are telling _me _about good parenting?"

Pausing, she considered. Then..."Yes, I am." She laughed at his look at surprise. "Hey...grilling? Not so great at it. Everything else? Pretty damn close to perfect." She winked at him as he chuckled.

She followed him to the kitchen. _"Finally," _Parker said exasperatedly, sitting at the kitchen table with his feet swinging impatiently. All of a sudden, he looked suspicious. "Were you guys _kissing _in there?"

Booth looked behind him after snatching two glasses from the cabinet. "Maybe," he deadpanned.

Parker wrinkled his nose. "Weird." He seemed to forget the weirdness when Booth sat the glass of orange juice down in front of him. "Thanks, Daddy.

"Thanks, Daddy," Brennan echoed as he gave her a glass as well, and he looked surprised, but pleased to hear her refer to him with the most important title he had ever been given.

It was the least she could do for the man who was an amazing father, and who excelled in the one thing she never thought she'd allow someone else to do: help her get her confidence back.

--

**A/N: Next holiday? Jack and Angela's wedding. That'll be a holiday, don't you think? We think!**


End file.
